I'd ridden hard and fast not looking back.
Tearing myself from Cassie's side had been like a knife to the gut and it still hurt hours later. My instincts were telling me I should have stayed to protect her but my duty to the King compelled me and I'd had no option but to leave.
My insides were warring with themselves the entire journey and I felt sick to my stomach as I imagined her unprotected and alone back at the castle.
But I knew I had to push her to the back of my mind if I was to function as a soldier and a leader, I needed to be fully present for the men and my head needed to be clear.
It's with these thoughts clouding my mind that I find us nearing the camp, Tybalt is restless and I know he feels the tension in the air, as I do.
Night has long since enveloped us and the men are silent as we enter the camp and meander through the maze of tents, making our way to the king.
We arrive at the tents housing the horses and I dismount, the men following my example, as my eyes roam the area, getting my bearings. I look to Alex beside me, who nods, our silent communication conveying his understanding of where I'm going. I know he'll handle the men while I find out the reason for our summons.
I wander through the never ending walls of white, smelling the air and feeling the odd sense of familiarity that campfire brings.
Noticing the kings banner a few tents over I slow, and mentally prepare myself for the conversation I know I'm about to have.
A feeling of deep unease settles over me and my body tenses at the unwelcome intrusion.
The guards at the king's tent nod at me and step aside, admitting me. They know who I am and why I'm here. I steel myself as I walk in with purpose, I'm here to serve the king and I intend to find out his plans for me and my men.
"Maxwell!" shouts the king from his chair. He's sat at a large round table surrounded by a group of men, all of whom are clearly soldiers and experienced men of war, like myself. I bow and approach the table, noticing that it's covered in maps that are marked with splashes of wine from the many goblets in use.
God, how are they supposed to make adequate plans for war if they're drunk, it makes my temper flare and it takes a monumental effort on my part to keep silent and bite my tongue.
"Your Majesty." I say with as much respect I can muster. "I am responding to your summons."
"Yes yes, quite quite. Why don't you sit down and have a drink? I'm sure it's been a long and hard journey for you and your men in this weather."
"Thank you your majesty. But I regret that I must decline your most generous offer. I must stay sober for my men if I am to lead them to battle." The tent falls silent and I wonder regretfully if I've offended him, but if I know him as well as I think I know him after our many meetings, he won't sense my veiled disapproval.
"Oh Maxwell, you are rather a bore. But yes of course...I understand your duty to your men. Tell me how is your wife doing these days? I hear rumours of her beauty in court on a daily basis"
I clench my jaw at the mention of Cassie. The knife I'd felt in my gut earlier makes an unwelcome return.
It's still a sore subject for the king; his best laid plans for me and Alice had failed miserably and I know that he still harbours feelings of resentment toward me. But I am far too useful in a battle to do or say anything about those feelings of his, at least for the moment.
I plaster a smile on my face as I reply "She is very well, thank you your Majesty."
"Good good. Now come sit, we have lots to discuss" he says excitedly and gestures to all the men surrounding us.
It's clear to me that this is all some kind of twisted game to him rather than an absolute necessity and it fills me with anger as his absolute carelessness for his subjects, but I know saying anything is an exercise in futility so i keep my mouth shut.
I take the nearest seat to me and sit down heavily from the weight of my armour, but no one notices as the king starts talking about his battle plans.
I take a covert look around the room at the men nearby and recognise one as Sir Edmund, a fellow knight and Earl of Cornwall.
He nods at me, smiling and I nod back; gesturing my mutual respect for him. I've met him a couple of times before in similar circumstance and we've always got on.
None of the others seem too enthusiastic about being summoned here and I can sense that a few of them are drinking to disguise their indifference towards the King and his cause.
It doesn't fill me with confidence in his authority but I have little choice and must make the best of a bad situation for the sake of the men. Whatever task I'm given I will ensure that it's carried out successfully, for their sake as well as my own.
The king proceeds to inform us how the Welsh have been getting rowdy with the English soldiers posted at the borders and causing unrest. Nothing too serious by the sounds of it, but a confrontation is just waiting to happen and the Kings closest advisors seem to think it's best if we preempt it.
I can't say that I agree, seeing as no actual reports of violence have been confirmed. I'm sure our presence will only antagonise an already disgruntled local population but I continue to nod my understanding as he explains the plan.
A garrison of men including my own is to travel to the borders in the morning and make our presence known. We are to warn off any Welsh and put down resistance by any means necessary.
The king's ongoing drawl is interrupted by yet more wine and food being brought into the tent and most of the men around the table take full advantage of it, falling on it like vultures.
They're getting more and more rowdy by the minute and I stand from my chair abruptly, ready to leave.
The air inside the tent is stifling and I have no wish to discuss anything other than business with these men so I excuse myself, bowing to the king and hastily retreating to the entrance.
I stand just outside having received my instructions, my heart and head feeling heavier than they have in months. It's raining lightly and I welcome the cool breeze that accompanies it as I stand immobile, contemplating my next actions.
"Warm in there isn't it" I hear someone mumble behind me, causing me to step aside to let him pass from the tent flap.
It's Sir Edmund and my shoulders slump in relief as we walk slowly away from the recent discussions. "You look troubled Sir Maxwell?"
"Do I?" I smile at him amused. I remember him having a good sense of humour and his tone is lighthearted.
"Tell me friend, was your veal as good as mine?" he asks patting his stomach "I'll not shit for a week!"
We both laugh heartily and I pat him on the back as we walk; gesturing for him to join me as we make our way to the campfire my men will have made.
"It's good to see you Sir Edmund. How is Cornwall these days?"
"Ahh Cornwall. She is a feisty mistress but I think I may have finally tamed her." He jokes, smiling dreamily.
"Good to hear"
"How's Arundel, and this new wife of yours, that I keep hearing so much about? There is much talk of her beauty"
There's that stab of pain again. Every mention of Cassie causes an ache to well up inside of me, threatening to overwhelm me at any moment, but I swallow it down, eager to return to our previously easy conversation.
"She is well thank you Sir Edmund. And yes exceedingly beautiful. Being a Countess comes with its own challenges and tasks but I have every faith she'll carry them out with great success." I say, noticing that my voice drips with tenderness.
"Describe her to me" he asks mockingly and I give him a questioning look, but he seems to be genuinely curious.
I fall silent as I picture Cassie in my mind. How can I adequately describe her, when in truth she is indescribable? I resolve to try my best in the spirit of things and take a deep breath in preparation of opening my raw wounds by thinking of her.
"She's short in stature but makes up for it in her strength of will. Her eyes are as blue and as deep as the ocean. Her skin is pale and her hair fair...on a sunny day it glows like shafts of sunlight..." I trail off, staring into the dark and imagining her standing in front of me, only to realise that I have Edmund's rapt attention.
He pulls back looking at me, examining me thoroughly, all trace of humour gone.
"You're a good man Maxwell" he says, raising his hand to shake mine. "Many a man would hide from speaking of his wife so affectionately to another. I can see that she holds your heart in her hand"
"That she does" I say confirming his thoughts and nodding at him.
Jeering from a nearby crowd of men distracts us from our conversation and Sir Edmund looks around to see what all the commotion is about. He looks back to me and excuses himself to take care of his own men for the night.
"We have an early start in the morning Maxwell. Get your rest." And he proceeds to walk away. "Oh and Maxwell?" he shouts loudly over the crowd.
"Yes?"
"I'll try not to dream about your wife tonight if you promise to do the same!" he laughs loudly and swaggers off.
The bloody git.
I reach the men shortly after and notice that they've erected the necessary tents, started a roaring fire and are currently cooking tonight's dinner, which consists of deer we'd caught earlier in the nearby forests.
I've already eaten so I get right to the point and tell them what our orders are. They're none too pleased as I expected, but know better than to talk against the king's orders whilst in his camp.
I retreat to bed, promising Alex to explain everything in the morning and asking him to ensure the men get some rest soon.
I lie down on the floor of my private tent with my blankets tucked around me and breathe a sigh of relief that today is over, at least now I know the course of action I will have to take.
I lie on my back with my arms behind my head and my thoughts immediately fly to Cassie, and wondering how she is. I pray she's coping alright.
I picture her lying in bed without me to protect her and my insides tense; but they ease as the image of her naked soft body lying next to mine floats steadily into my mind. I close my eyes and sigh, imagining her riding me, her hair falling in soft waves down to her perfect breasts, her hips moving under my hands and her head falling back in ecstasy. God, what I wouldn't give to be with her right now, I would show her just how much I love her and I how much I worship her beautiful body.
I drift off with echoes of her moans ringing in my ears.
-------------------------------------------
I wake up as hard as my Broadsword and gasp with the need to sink myself into Cassie. I'm desperate for relief but I have no time and certainly no privacy with the men rousing themselves right outside, so I get up and call for help with getting my armour on.
Today will be a tiring and testing one, and I intend to leave as soon as possible to complete my orders – I need to get back to her as fast as possible.
The morning is warm and bright and the men's spirits are lifted as we make our way North West towards the borders. We fall into a steady trotting pace together, Alex and I riding in front leading the way.
Sir Edmund and his men left an hour or so before us at first light, seeing as they have fewer men to prepare and ready for possible battle.
We follow their faint tracks through the fields and Alex sidles next to me on his horse, asking questions about our planned strategy.
"So we're to follow Sir Edmunds troops to the border and maintain a strong presence to deter the Welsh?" he asks. "What then?"
"We are to wait on further instructions whilst maintaining the peace at the border." I say, fully aware that he thinks these plans are as much of a waste of time as I do.
"The king must think we are fools" he murmurs to me quietly but sternly. I look around to ensure none of the men have heard his words; we must put on a united front with the King to them, even if we disagree with our instructions.
But they're all at least a few paces behind us and holding their own easy conversations as we steadily trot. I turn back around to face Alex; confident we won't be heard and knowing I can be frank with him.
"I have no doubt that the King sees us as disposable should things go awry. We need to be smart about this Alex; I don't intend to raise my sword in battle at all during this...summons.
"This isn't a mere summons Max, we're riding to war. The King knows the implications of his orders and were the idiots he's sending in first to test the waters."
"I agree. But we have no option, so I propose that we keep our interactions with the Welsh to a respectful and believable minimum. It is my intention to ensure our safe return home" I say gesturing to the men with my eyes.
Alex nods in agreement and I rub my stubble covered chin, the whiskers of hair scratching my hands as they go.
I'm exhausted from a fitful night's sleep and my back aches with being in the saddle all morning in full armour; but I sit bolt upright determined to set a good example to the men.
My mind wanders to Cassie and my heart begins to thud painfully as I try to estimate exactly how long this ridiculous summons will take and how long it will be before I get to see her beautiful face again.
I ache to be near her, to touch her and know that she's safe. The feeling of having no control over her protection doesn't sit well with me at all and I grind my teeth in frustration, gripping my reins tightly in my fists.
"She'll be alright Max" Alex says so softly I almost don't hear him. I look at him in surprise.
"How did you know I was thinking of her?"
"I just knew. Mayhap I was having similar thoughts about another" Now I'm really confused.
"What? Who!?" I ask incredulous. Alex has always had a way with the women but no one's ever held his interests for longer than an afternoon and that's saying something.
"It matters not Max. We cannot be together." He says faintly, his face dropping and his whole demeanor suddenly taking on a very defeated stance.
"Why ever not?" I ask curiously. Who could he be talking about? I haven't seen him with anyone at the castle recently, in fact come to think of it he hasn't taken any woman to his bed for a long while. How had I not noticed? I prod further, trying to get to the truth. "Is she married?"
His head shoots up to face me in shock "No! I...no she's not married" and his head drops again.
"Is she promised to another?"
"No...at least not that I know of." He replies bitterly, his head still hanging.
"Well then, what's the problem? Why have you not asked for her hand?" I ask nonplussed.
"I have...She said no" he looks away to the horizon trying to hide his emotion, but I know him too well for him to be able to disguise it from me. It hurts me to see him like this and I know that he needs me to pretend otherwise so rather than feel sorry for him I try a different tack.
"Did she explain why?"
Any woman would be lucky to have him. He's a good man and a brave soldier...not to mention a most loyal friend.
He looks down to the ground and shakes his head in anger.
"She thinks she is not good enough for me" he mumbles and I can tell the words he speaks cost him dearly. The mere thought of this woman, whoever she is, thinking that way about herself hurts him deeply.
"Why would she think that?"
"She's one of the castle chamber maids, Max." and he looks at me apprehensively as though I might see this as some form of betrayal. But my reaction couldn't be more the opposite.
"Does she make you happy?"
He looks wistfully into the distance, obviously contemplating his next words very carefully before turning back to me.
"My world rises and sets with hers."
His eyes glass over clearly showing his emotions; something that I've always teased him about. But in this moment I am undeniably happy for him. He's found his Cassie.
"Then you have my blessing."
He chortles and sighs "I thank you brother. But I don't think that will be enough"
"No?" I ask curiously, wondering what he means.
"She's determined to deny her feelings for me. Even with your blessing I fear she will never accept my hand"
"Well then you'll just have to try harder when we return home" I say patting him on the back and we both laugh, the tension evaporating.
"Why didn't you tell me Alex? I may be an Earl but I'm still your oldest friend."
"I know that Max...I didn't want to bother you. You've had a lot on your plate what with Alice and getting married to Cassie."
I shake my head at his statement, angry at myself for not noticing any of this before.
"I'm sorry Alex. I've been so preoccupied with myself that I hadn't noticed your unhappiness."
"No Max. I won't have you blaming yourself. Things will sort themselves out, I'm sure" and he smiles at me, trying to hide his pain.
"Regardless...when we return home you shall become a married man!" I say stubbornly, suddenly very sure of myself.
"Oh Really? And how do you propose to achieve that, when the woman I love seems determined to reject me?" he asks sarcastically.
"I managed to get Cassie to marry me, didn't I?"
-------------------------------------------------
Several days later and we are nearing the borders with Wales.
The journey has been long and hard and the men are restless. They're keen to do something, even if it's just walking our perimeters and watching the locals. I can see the designated meeting point with Sir Edmunds troops in the distance and estimate that we'll reach them in a couple of hours.
Sometime later we near the village that Sir Edmund is stationed at but as we reach the outskirts a chill runs up my spine, something doesn't feel right.
I don't see any men or horses around and the village square is deserted of any of the usual expected sights.
I raise my hand, gesturing for the men to stop and instruct them to wait as I ride ahead and survey the situation.
Tybalt shies away from going too close and that's when I know something is seriously wrong.
I decide to dismount and continue on foot, passing some small houses that seem empty and devoid of any signs of life, making me question going any further but I really have no choice.
My hand instinctively goes to my sword hilt at my waist and grips it's firmly, ready for any attack that might come my way. I approach a nearby tavern and peer into the window...nothing, not even a resident drunk...this is eerie.
I turn back to look at the men for any sign that they may have seen something but Alex looks as nonplussed as I must do.
I can tell that he doesn't approve of me going in alone but I won't risk anyone's life until I know the situation and the risks involved.
I approach the central village well and lower the bucket, intending to have a drink and then discuss with Alex our next move but as I start lugging the rope back up the surface a noise behind me causes me to whirl around.
A man charges at me with his sword raised, shouting expletives, and he succeeds in knocking me to the ground in front of the well in my shock at the situation. I curse myself for letting my guard down, I should have known better.
I roll on the ground trying to escape the imminent attack, but my sword hinders me and I end up on my side completely exposed to his blow. His blade comes down in a swift arc and slices through my chainmail, carving a bloody wound right down my left side from chest to hip.
He lifts his blade as if to swing again and I reach for my dagger in my boot, freeing it quickly and driving it into his foot with all my force, causing him to scream in agony and halt his attack.
I jump to my feet, removing my trusted sword from the hilt and begin to advance on his position as he recovers from my assault, swearing loudly in Welsh.
He's just given me some much needed information about who he is and I intend to use it.
"Cease this madness Man! I intend you no harm!" I shout over his exclamations.
"Oh yes! Is that why you bring an army, Englishman?!" he shouts back in English.
"Hardly an army...Look we mean you no harm. Why don't you lower your weapon and you and I can talk" I gesture, lowering my own sword slightly to show my willingness to be peaceful.
He hesitates and pauses, staring at me deciding if I'm good on my word. He apparently comes to the decision that I am and lowers his sword, planting his feet squarely and breathing a heavy sigh.
"Why are you here?" he asks gruffly.
"I am Sir Maxwell, Earl of Arundel and I am on orders from the King to keep the peace in this region"
"There was already peace here before your lot started coming! The English has been crossing the borders, raping and pillaging for months now and I'll not stand it for any longer!"
"What are you talking about?" I ask incredulously, not understanding a damn thing he's saying.
"Oh I expect your king didn't tell you about that before sending you here did he? Our lands have been abused by your lot for the last time" he hisses angrily and spits at the ground in front of me.
"No I can't say that he did." I say, suddenly very angry that all of this information was kept from me. "Look, we are to be posted here for some time and I give you my word that during that time, no English forces will enter your lands. At least, not from here." I add at the end, fully aware that I have no control over the rest of the borders or the king's childish frivolities.
"That's all well and good but what happens when you and your troops leave eh?"
I pause, not really knowing what to say to him.
I can't help this man. I can feel the anger and pain rolling off of him in waves and I sympathise, knowing how I would feel if I were in his position.
"I'm sorry. I don't know." My apology seems to take him by surprise and his demeanor changes slightly, softening.
We stand staring at each other; both deciding how to proceed and I begin by trying to appeal to the soldier in him.
"You're bleeding, friend" I say calmly and gesture to his foot. "Would you permit one of my men to dress the wound? It was my fault after all?" and he looks down surprised, the adrenaline of the fight having masked the pain and made him forget.
"I suppose so" he says stubbornly, but I can tell he's calmed enough for us to talk.
I look back towards where I left Tybalt and startle when I see my men standing nearby watching with their mouths hanging open.
They saw the whole thing. Alex is shouting instructions and they begin to make their way towards us.
"You're bleeding too, Englishman" he says with a hint of humour in his voice, causing me to look back at him.
I peer down at my side and the heavy throbbing that I've been ignoring breaks through to my consciousness in an unwelcome return. I'm bleeding but not heavily, thankfully, it looks like a superficial wound.
"Yes, so I see. That's quite an arm you have there" I say smiling and he actually laughs.
"Hahaha! I never knew Englishmen could be funny" and he hobbles over to sit at the foot of the well as I shout for Harold to bring medical supplies and dress his wounds.
"We have our moments" I say, a laugh playing on my lips. He gestures for me to sit next to him and I gratefully take a seat, resting my tired body.
It's only now that I can take a good look at him as Harold dresses his wound quickly and quietly. He's older than me, I'd say in his fifties, with graying hair, a strong body and more than a few scars that I can see. He clenches his jaw as Harold finishes and retreats.
"I thank you, Sir." He says to me, clearly still unsure of me, but feeling as though for now he can trust that he's safe.
"You're welcome, Are you here alone?" I ask and a look of utter surprise appears on his weathered face.
"Oh Shite. You just reminded me." he says and shouts something unintelligible in Welsh.
Before we know what's happening, men start appearing from the surrounding houses and trees in alarming numbers and they all appear to answer to him. I turn to look at him in shock and he just laughs. "What did you expect Englishman? That we would just let you take everything without a fight?"
"I don't know I expected, but it wasn't this" I say. We're surrounded and could so easily be overpowered. My thoughts immediately begin to form escape plans but my fears are unnecessary I soon find.
"Don't worry yourself Englishman. You're safe...for now. I like you" he chuckles to himself.
"Tell me, have you seen a company of Englishmen bearing the coat of Arms of the Earl of Cornwall?"
He pulls back to look at me suspiciously, narrowing his eyes and chewing on his cheek as he contemplates my question.
"Why do you ask?"
"I was expecting to rendezvous with those forces at this village but they're clearly very absent and there's certainly no sign of them the way we came."
"I heard of a company of Englishman being slaughtered at the next village over. I don't know if it's them you're looking for but they ventured onto Welsh ground and...well they paid the price."
A lump forms in my throat as I picture Lord Edmund and his men being killed so callously, it has to be them he's referring to. No other forces were being sent this way.
I'm almost positive that Edmund wouldn't have trespassed onto Welsh ground knowingly and the thought of an innocent mistake being their downfall makes me feel ill. It's an easy enough mistake to make; all the villages along this border look the same and are roughly the same population size. He would have had no way of knowing that he'd ended up at the wrong destination and was leading his men to their deaths.
"Did you know them?" he asks quietly, sensing my unease.
"Yes...or at least I knew their leader. He was a good man" I say haltingly, staring at the floor, my disbelief barely registering.
We both sit in silence. War is bloody and unforgiving. It doesn't take into account whether you're a good man or not, whether you're a Lord or a peasant, whether you're English or Welsh. The sharp blade of hatred and ignorance will sever your flesh just as easily.
I sit quite still before I notice that the man is beginning to stand, with difficulty, and he shouts for one of his men to come forward.
I stand myself, ignoring the pain pulling at my side and focusing on the situation at hand. They have a heated discussion with a lot of gesturing towards me and I listen calmly, standing strong, my resolve to return home renewed, waiting for his decision.
"My men and I will retreat to Welsh lands for the time being. I will hold you to your word."
I nod to him, understanding the unspoken warning but knowing that it's unnecessary, as I have no intention of entering their lands.
"No Englishmen will enter your lands whilst my men and I are posted here." I confirm again, just to reiterate.
This time he nods, and shouts an order in Welsh, causing all the men to turn away and make for the border at a leisurely pace.
"What's your name friend?" I ask curiously.
He looks at me quizzically from the corner of his eyes, clearly debating whether to tell me anything.
"I think that's a story for another day, don't you Englishman?" he smiles knowingly.
I frown in surprise but nod when I realise he's only protecting his people. I respect and admire him for his clear head and bold leadership.
He turns to watch his men leaving and begins to follows them closely, limping, and before long they're all out of sight and through the tree line.
I order the men to make camp just outside the abandoned village and we retreat to settle for the night, most of them seeming pleased to be leaving the deserted buildings behind us.
At one of the fires that night I sit silently, contemplating everything that's occurred over the past few days. It all seems like one long bad dream that's holding me in its grip.
There's no telling how long the Kings whim will keep us here and what he has in store for me and my men next, but I won't take it lying down, that's for sure.
I retreat to my tent having had my wound dressed and properly looked at; I need the solitary space and room to think, without showing the men that I'm seething and still concerned about our precarious position.
I lie awake for hours; sleep eluding me at all turns, turning my thoughts into a maze of exaggerated fears. My wound is aching but no longer bleeding and I lie on my side to avoid putting any pressure on it.
I close my eyes, wishing I could be with Cassie.
Hear her voice whisper my name in the dark, feel her touch and caress her as she moans soft words into my ear.
My hand moves automatically to stroke myself, I can't stand it any longer. I need a release and I need it now. I imagine her sweet mouth consuming my length and sucking hard as I run my fingers through her hair, stroking her as she gives me my release in the most intimate way. Giving me what I need.
I whisper her name as I come hard into my hand and drift off into the best night's sleep I've had all week.
---------------------------
We've been away from home now for an agonisingly long 9 weeks and morale is at an all-time low. The king has forbid any communications with home in fears that our messages might be intercepted by rogue Welsh parties. So none of us, myself included, has heard a damn thing from the castle or our families or been able to send word to them.
I've been driving myself crazy worrying about Cassie and hoping that she doesn't think I'm dead. I've nearly caved and sent a secret messenger under the cover of darkness a dozen times, but the thought that I could be putting any of my own men at risk dissuades me every time.
I've been keeping the men busy with their training and running patrols daily, adjacent to the border. They're instructed not to engage with any Welshmen they happen across but to report the contact straight to me; I won't be responsible for any of my men getting injured or killed.
The King may order us to be here and I will defend our lands from any attack but under no circumstances will I bait the Welsh.
A week or so after the company of Welsh men had retreated we noticed a slow and steady stream of people returning to their homes within the village and now it's almost as if they were never gone. The market place is bustling and Alex and I regularly trade items with the local residents in order to eat something other than Red meat that we catch in the nearby woods.
There's been no trace whatsoever of any Welshmen, or trouble caused by their presence, since we've been here and I'm now of the firm opinion that the King has ulterior motives for our being here.
"How long do you suppose we've got to stay?" Alex asks me, pulling me from my jumbled thoughts.
We're sat on our horses overlooking the village from a distance, having gone for a morning ride to clear our heads, under the guise of a planned patrol.
"I'm not sure." I say dejected, sighing deeply.
We sit in companiable silence, staring down at the valley before us. Both of us feeling useless and being completely powerless to do anything about it.
I'm so angry I want to shout until my lungs are empty and I'm shaking from the effort of dragging another breath back in.
I want to shout out my frustration at being stuck here, for even a moment longer, but know that it's pointless until we finally get the instruction to leave this place.
My body is so tightly wound up that I feel like punching the nearest tree to release my pent up rage at being kept from Cassie; my wife, who has been left so dangerously exposed to any threat that comes her way. And for what?! The Kings immature ambitions to prove himself worthy of his throne by overthrowing a centuries old peace treaty and plunging us all into a bloody war that no one wants.
Each day is torture and worse than the last. I crave her like a dying man craves his next breath, not knowing if or when it's coming.
"Max, look" says Alex pointing behind us. A king's messenger is approaching us swiftly on his horse.
I look at Alex, surprised and nervous. What is this message going to say? Is it going to be an instruction to invade the borders and start a War? Is it news of Cassie? Are we to stay put for even longer?
I pull on the reins, turning Tybalt around and eagerly reach out for the letter as the man arrives in front of us.
"A letter from the King, My Lord." He says officially and turns without another word, galloping off and leaving us in anticipation.
I stare down at the letter in my hands, wanting to open it but knowing that once I've read it, the words can't be unread.
"Max, open it!" Alex shouts at me in frustration and I tear into it at his outburst, trying desperately to keep my breathing under control.
It takes a moment for me to process the words I'm reading and when I do I look up at Alex, I see the worry lines etched, deep into his face.
"Well?!" he says desperate to be put out of his misery.
I don't say anything, I just hand him the letter.
He reads it swiftly and stares at me.
"He can't be serious? What is he thinking?"
"I don't believe he is thinking. At least not rationally" I muse bitterly.
"This is tantamount to declaring war on the Welsh Max. Not to mention bloody risky for us."
"I know that." I pause, calmly trying to think of a solution to all of the problems were facing. Come on Max, think; One solution at a time.
"Listen Alex, I want you to ride home and keep watch over Cassie for me."
"No." he says simply and completely straight faced. My eyes fly to his in confusion at his refusal to meet my orders. It's unheard of.
"No Max, I won't do it. My oath was to serve and protect you and the realm, and I can't do that if you send me away. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you...Besides I'm your best rider, you'll need me before this is through... No...We go together or not at all."
His reaction is unexpected but not at all surprising to me. He is loyal to a fault and I find myself hiding a smile at his protestations.
"I need to know that she's safe, brother." I say in all seriousness.
"She is. Alice has returned to Spain, we left more than enough men behind to safeguard her and the castle. If we do not end this madness the King has ordered swiftly she'll be more at risk from open War with Wales."
His argument is actually quite compelling and I smirk at him.
"You do realise that I'm the one in charge here?"
A matching smirk appears on his face and he chuckles to himself, pleased that he's won the argument, for now.
-----------------------
We ride silently back to our temporary camp and I dismount Tybalt quickly and quietly, handing his reins to a nearby guard.
"Gather the men Alex" I say to him over our horses and he nods, walking away to muster everyone around the campfires nearest to us.
I retreat to my tent speedily, needing a moment to myself to gather my muddled thoughts.
I pull the flap closed behind me and pace the ground back and forth, running every single possible outcome through my mind.
I'm well aware that I'm going to have to break my promise to the Welshman I fought, I gave him my word no troops would enter his lands whilst I was here and yet here we are the; the king has ordered me to not only enter Welsh lands but to retrieve intelligence on them and their military powers.
My hands rubs down my face in an effort to clear the haze and I scratch my stubble out of habit as I compose myself amidst the shit storm that the King is throwing my way.
I leave the tent when I can hear the chatter of the men getting progressively louder as they gather nearby. Now is the time to explain our next move.
I stride forward and stand front and centre, contemplating my next words to them all very carefully.
"Alright listen up!" I shout getting their attention. They all spin toward me and the inane chatter dies down instantly to be replaced by a nervous silence.
I can sense that they are expecting the worst, after all why would I be gathering them here if it wasn't for bad news; the air is thick with apprehension.
"We have our latest orders from the King. You have all done well here in protecting our countries borders but the time has come to push forward."
I pause as hushed muttering starts rippling through the crowd; it was the reaction I was expecting so I allow it to continue for a short time until I decide to push ahead.
"We are to cross the River Severn and make our way south to a small settlement known in the English tongue as Chepstow. Once we're there we are to observe the Welsh, without their knowledge, and report back to the King on their readiness for War. This is essentially a reconnaissance mission; and as such I will be taking a small group of men with me on this venture."
There are growing murmurs of dissatisfaction from the men; I know why they're unhappy. They feel it's wrong to stay here safe, away from any action when some of us will be risking our very lives. But I really have no choice in the matter so I begin to shout over them to quiet them down.
"The remainder of you will stay behind and guard this border in my stead. Harold – I leave you in charge. You know what to do" I say firmly to Harold, one of my best soldiers. I know that he's capable and can trust that he'll keep a level head whilst I'm away.
"Yes my lord" he says with a bow of the head towards me and his eyes scan the men for any signs of dissention. There are none. They all know his fierceness in battle and trust him as a leader.
At this point I dismiss the men and gesture for Alex and Harold to follow me to my tent. They shuffle in behind me awaiting my orders patiently and looking eager to follow them.
"Harold, at this point I don't know how long we'll be gone, so you'll need to keep the men busy. Exercises, training and patrols should keep them occupied enough. The last thing we need is a garrison of bored soldiers, with little imagination, deciding to take matters into their own hands."
He nods his understanding so I continue.
"Do not cross those borders, do not engage any Welsh unless absolutely necessary and only to safeguard the men's or English lives. I don't want my men to be the cause of any bloodshed. Understand?"
"Consider it done my lord." He says confidently and I know I've made the right choice. I nod and smile at him as reassuringly as I can. I'm not sure if it's for his benefit or mine but I manage to mask my worry well.
"Which men will you take Max?" asks Alex breaking my concentration.
I ponder the question for a moment, thinking of my best soldiers. I'll need the quickest riders and best hand to hand fighters if this mission is to succeed but equally I can't leave the men here at a disadvantage.
"You, Simon and Peter are the best riders we have so that makes 4 of us."
"Can I suggest Henry? He's excelled recently in hand to hand combat training. If we make contact with any Welsh and it turns nasty he'll be a good addition to the group"
I smile at him, knowing he thinks the same way I do when it comes to battle preparations.
"I agree, inform them and prepare the horses. I must write to the king to advise him of our plan of action."
With that they both bow and depart hastily from the tent, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I don't relish the thought of what is to come but if it means I can return home to my beautiful Cassie soon I'll do it without complaint.
-------------------------------
Its pitch black and I end up slipping on the wet grass as we creep silently along the tree line, trying to find a good position to watch from.
Alex catches my arm from behind before I can fall to the ground and pulls me upright. I turn to thank him silently.
I can't see much more than a foot in front of me, the only light is provided by a small sliver of moon, high in the sky.
We're all freezing cold and soaking wet from the incessant rain. Thank god I'd foreseen that we should leave our armour behind at the camp, as it would have announced our presence to any soldier worth his salt within a half mile radius.
As it is we wear our chainmail covered by our tunics to attempt to blend in with the dark forest.
The flame light from the windows of the surrounding buildings gives me an idea of rough population size, but I can't see any sign of military presence whatsoever, we need to get closer.
I'd ordered Simon and Peter to stay a distance behind us with the horses, that way if anything goes awry they can ride back and send word to the King.
I edge towards to the open field that stands between us and the village, gesturing for Alex and Henry to follow me.
We proceed to creep quickly across the field under the cover of darkness to a nearby barn, using its shadows to move around and survey our situation.
It's pouring down with rain at this point and puddles are beginning to form, caking mud onto our already drenched shoes.
I pause as I reach the end of the barn's cover and almost fall straight into the path of an oncoming group of drunken men leaving a nearby tavern.
I draw a shocked breath into my lungs deeply and hope to god they don't notice us. My back is crushed up against the wooden wall of the barn and my fists clench with tension as my heartbeat starts galloping.
I turn my head to notice Alex and Henry crouched down low a few steps behind me, fully aware of what's happening from my stance. None of us move. None of us breathe.
Thick drops of rain run down my face in a steady stream, tickling a path down my throat and dropping heavily onto my chest through a hole in my chainmail. Every one of my senses is heightened and time seems to slow as I anticipate being found.
But my worries are unfounded as the group of clearly drunken men begins to sing and stagger past us clumsily, in search of their warm beds and wives to keep them company for the night. They round a corner ahead of us and disappear from sight as the breath I've been holding tumbles from me in relief.
The sound of the rain disguises all other noise and I decide that it's safe enough to continue moving forward with the squelch of our footsteps being drowned out.
It's best to avoid the tavern so we skirt around the edge of the town and in the direction I saw the men disappearing to earlier – they may well have been on their way to a military base rather than their homes.
Up ahead I see yet another large barn with laughter and firelight flooding out onto the street from inside. If there is a military presence here that barn is where it will be.
I turn to make sure Alex and Henry are keeping up with me and they aren't far behind. I gesture for them to stay where they are as I keep going and they nod their understanding.
Moving quickly and decisively I aim for a small gully that'll hide me until I reach the hill appearing to surround this second barn.
I climb the small hill and roll clumsily down the other side, making my way towards the rear; there may be a small window or hole in the wood that I can peek through.
As I reach the barn wall I feel my way along the uneven slats of wood, looking for an opening to peer into and gather the necessary information for the King. A few splinters enter my rough fingers and I grimace in silence as I try to hold onto the wall without slipping in the rapidly eroding, water logged ground beneath my feet.
A small sliver of light emanates out of the planks and I move cautiously to look inside. I can make out a lot of movement and hear plenty of laughter but can't make out any real quantities of men without a better view. I reluctantly decide that moving further around the barn is my only real option.
Just as I'm about to straighten up and continue moving, the feel of a sharp blade cuts into my neck and a rough voice barks at me.
"Stay right where you are English dog."
I freeze on the spot trying to figure out my next move. Is this man alone and can I overpower him? Have Alex and Henry seen what's happened and have they been able to make good an escape?
"Stand... slowly, and turn around" he speaks close to my right ear. The echo of the rain is throwing off all of my senses and I'm disoriented.
I stand shakily, trying desperately not to slip and fall, giving him more control over me. I raise my hands to head level and turn slowly on the spot scanning the horizon for Alex, but I can't see him.
The relief I feel at his escape is immediate and I relax my shoulders slightly knowing that my friend is safe...for now at least.
"Your Sword, hand it here" he says menacingly. I reach to my side and hand him my sword begrudgingly.
I look into the eyes of the man in front of me. He's flanked by three other men and my heart sinks knowing that I won't likely be able to fight through four men with no weapon. I have a dagger in my boot as always but now is not the time to use it.
My teeth grind in frustration as I study these men. The one standing in front of me looks to be in charge, with another two standing confidently and arrogantly behind him.
The last one looks to be uncomfortable and fidgety, he's the weak link. Too bad he's behind them; I just have to figure out how to use him.
"Out here on your own are we?" he asks, his voice dripping with barely concealed disgust. When I don't answer he carries on.
"No...I don't think so. Spread out!" he shouts to his group without taking his eyes from me. "The others will be here somewhere. Find them!"
The ring leader and I stare each other down in silence as his men disappear off into the sheet rain, concealing themselves within seconds. I wonder how they even spotted me in this weather, but I don't have time to think about more than staying alive at this point.
I stand quite still, waiting for the right moment to strike; to draw my blade and take him down. My hand twitches at my side and my breathing quickens as I shift my feet in preparation. A loud shout from behind him breaks our stare off and I reach for the dagger at lightning speed, lunging for him and going in for the kill.
But he notices and moves just as fast, rotating midair out of the path of my blade and pulling me down to the ground with him. I hit the floor at full force, knocking the air out of my lungs and we struggle around on the ground; each of us trying to gain the upper hand.
I actually manage to straddle his chest and get a punch in causing his movements to slow considerably. But my feet and legs begin to slip in the mud as I try my hardest to subdue him; he's bloody strong and I know that I need to finish this quickly now, whilst I still can.
I jerk the blade towards his throat and with an almighty heave drag it straight across in one fluid motion, causing a familiar spray of still warm blood to hit me directly in the face.
He stops moving immediately and I sit back on my haunches, panting, and raise my face to the black night, letting the rain wash away my sins.
The rain pummels me as I stare down at the lifeless body beneath me, but I have no time to contemplate whether the manner of his death was deserved or what kind of man he was in life.
I stand abruptly and stumble my way toward the tree line and where I last saw Alex, hoping to god I don't bump into anyone else on the way. Once I reach the trees I'm confident I can conceal myself enough to wait them out and then make my way back to camp before first light.
I stagger through the leaves and pause, my eyes flying left and right, searching out any trace of movement in the shadows but I struggle to see anything.
The clouds have obstructed the moon and what little light was emanating from the village is obstructed now by the rain and trees being blown about in the strong winds.
A storm is coming. I can feel it in my bones. It will aide with my escape but also hamper my chances of finding Alex and Henry and getting back to the horses.
I try to get my bearings from the buildings I can still see but that thought makes me realise that I'm too near to the tree line and too near to soldiers who could at any point find the body I've left behind.
I begin to run, as best I can in the darkness and questionable terrain. Tripping over the roots of several trees as I go, I pick myself up quickly knowing that I need to get as far away as possible, and quickly.
A brief streak of lightning bolts across the sky and highlights the forest in front of me, giving me a much needed reprieve from the all encompassing darkness that I feel so completely lost in. I spot a figure not far off and slow down to a crawl as I get nearer. It could be Alex but it could so easily be one of the other guards from earlier.
I tiptoe towards him, hoping for the best but expecting the worst. He's standing still and appears to be scanning the forest for signs of movement, I still have the dagger in my hand and my fingers tighten their grip reflexively.
My eyes strain against the darkness and I'm willing another strike of lightning to come so that I'm able to make out more than shadow and outlines.
I move closer still, observing the soldiers movements but it's not until I get too close that I realise my mistake.
This isn't Alex.
His stance is off and the way he holds himself isn't what I know and recognise as my friend.
I realise it far too late as I fall to the ground, the pain radiating from my crown too much for me to handle. I lurch to the sopping wet mud and my hand flies to my head, it's warm and wet and I know that I must be bleeding.
A flicker of fear jumps up in my throat but I push it back down with everything I have. I can handle this – I've fought in battle many times. Only most of those times weren't in the pitch black and against an unknown quantity.
I roll onto my back and lightning strikes at that very moment; it lights everything up like the sun for a brief moment and I can make out what's coming.
The flash of a blade arcs down towards me, making my eyes bulge in surprise.
Pain explodes over my head and blackness takes over.
----------------------
Soft murmurings vibrate in my eardrums and I will my heavy eyes to open. But they refuse to obey.
"Say nothing. Speak to me..."
More incoherent words are whispered from a distance away.
"My orders....my responsibility"
The sounds are familiar and I try to rouse myself but darkness swallows me whole and I disappear again.
Shouting and cries of pain bring me forward again and I struggle to wake my body up, it feels heavy and foreign to me.
It's a feeling that I loathe in all of its powerlessness. The pain from earlier makes an unwelcome return to my head and I feel bile rise in my throat as I attempt to roll onto my side clumsily.
Vomit escapes my mouth silently as more screams of anguish echo around me.
I open my eyes and try desperately to focus on the scene unfolding in front of me.
My stomach drops as I see Alex manacled to a chair in front of a fire, men are interrogating him and appear to be searing his chest with a glowing fire poker when he refuses to answer.
"Who sent you?!" shouts a man I immediately recognise. He's one of the cocky bastards that were standing behind the man I killed earlier.
He stands over Alex, who is valiantly ignoring his questioning, with a look on his face that says he is enjoying this torture immensely.
He will be the first to die.
I try to speak up but it comes out as a tiny croak and no one hears me over the din of shouting and subsequent howls of anger and pain coming from Alex.
I cringe at hearing and seeing the torture of my oldest and closest friend as he valiantly fights back the only way he can. He's sweating profusely and looking our captors in the eye with the type of grim determination one normally only sees on the battle field.
I peer around the room we're in and recognise it as the first barn we found upon arriving in the village.
It's small with a pile of hay in one corner and rafters overhead throughout. Men are heckling us from outside but only a small number are witnessing this torture first hand.
It's then that I notice the small figure slumped on the ground beside Alex, it looks like a boy but then I grasp that its Henry and my heart thuds in my chest as the realisation hits me that none of us escaped to raise the alarm with Simon and Peter.
No one knows the danger were in.
I can only hope that they both have the sense to return to our camp and let Harold know that we never returned.
"It looks like you might need some more incentive to talk" the man spits in Alex's face and retreats to the fire for the red hot poker.
He turns and stalks back towards him with a sick excitement on his face but I won't allow this to continue.
"That's enough!" I shout, and every eye in the room turns to me in subdued shock.
The main ringleader holding the burning poker quickly regains his composure and swaggers over to the fire to replace it among the ember logs.
"So you're awake...let's see if your lips are any looser than your countryman's here shall we."
"You may ask me anything but you will leave my men out of this"
"Oh so you're in charge are you?" he laughs. I think I nod but my body is still sluggish and I struggle against my restraints to sit up.
"Well let's see how much you know – bring another chair!" he shouts to another nearby soldier who scurries off into the dark doorway.
It's not long before he returns and I'm deposited heavily onto a rickety wooden chair that barely holds my weight. My balance is still off and I nearly keel straight back over onto the floor but the meek soldier catches me and ties my hands behind me.
I shoot a quick cursory glance at Alex and Henry and they're both watching me, waiting to follow my cue.
I return my stony stare to the idiot in front of me and feel my anger suddenly swell in me at the situation that the King's put all of us in.
We're lucky to be alive. Who knows how long that will last.
Sweet images of Cassie flood through my mind like a torrent of water submerging me but I push them away painfully.
I need to focus; to be fully present for my men if not for myself. Thoughts of her will only make being stuck here even worse; and I need to keep my wits about me if any of us are going to make it out of this alive.
The bastard with the poker approaches me with a swagger of arrogance unlike any I've ever seen.
He edges closer to me and gets right into my face, obviously trying to intimidate me; his leer is bordering on maniacal.
I sit very still taking in every detail that I can about him, even the little elements could mean the difference between life and death for me and my men. I need to find his weakness and exploit it.
His stench is overpowering and I almost grimace with revolt as he stands before me but I swallow down my disgust and keep my mask of indifference on my face.
He smiles at me with a toothless grin and proceeds to circle me slowly, clearly looking for my weakness also.
That's my first indication that he has experience in battle, he's thinking like a soldier should. Looking for the chink in my armour and attempting to use it to his advantage.
He returns to his position in front of me and pulls his sword from its scabbard swiftly before placing the razor sharp tip directly onto my adam's apple. I lift my head a few inches letting him see that this move of his doesn't scare me.
We both patiently wait for the other to talk. He thinks that I'll break first because I have a sword at my throat, but he doesn't know me.
Death doesn't scare me, not anymore.
I've stared it in the face too many times to count on the battlefield; seen the life drain from men's eyes and their bodies take their final breath as they fight the inevitable ending, coming to them as a result of my blade.
He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, a telling sign that he's nervous and uncomfortable. The power shift in the barn is like a thick blanket being draped over all of us and I know that I have him.
He breaks first.
"Tell me who sent you!" he barks at me, clearly trying to drown out his own feelings of inferiority at speaking first.
I sit silently, quietly contemplating how I'm going to approach him and this conversation.
"Speak!" he screams, spitting in my face, taking my silence for reluctance to yield to his will.
His temper is his weak point. He's unpredictable and volatile. It means that I can't push him too far, he might do something stupid. I approach the conversation with him as I would a child.
"Who do you think sent us?" I make sure to ask it gently. Any sarcasm would only get him angrier.
"I'd wager that king of yours sent you." He says mockingly whilst looking at his comrades, they start laughing as though they're afraid of what he might do if they don't. It says a lot about him. They may fear him but they don't respect him.
"We weren't sent by anybody." I state matter of factly; I can't implicate the King here. If I do it could mean war.
"Liar!" he shouts again and backs away to the fire. "Let's see how brave you are with my poker burning your English skin"
He turns to the fire giving me a few precious seconds to take in the rest of my surroundings.
There are only two other men, that I don't recognise, inside the barn and they're standing by the door facing us. They're likely guarding to prevent our escape. There's no other visible way in or out of this bloody barn so I know that the entrance is our only option for escape once I can get out of my binds.
I wiggle my fingers about trying to dislodge the rope from around my wrists but it just isn't budging.
I glance at Alex whilst the poker is being heated in the flames and he gives me a small nod of reluctant encouragement.
He knows what's coming.
I indicate subtly with my eyes towards my back, letting him know that I'm trying to free my hands. I don't see his reaction because the man returns to stand in front of me, instructing one of the men to remove my chainmail. This is my chance, they'll have to untie me to get it off and I can make a move for my dagger in my boot.
I keep calm and watch the sentry approach me with caution. I intimidate him. Good.
He begins to untie my bonds and my fingers twitch in preparation of a speedy maneuver. I keep my eyes on the bastard in front of me as the blood begins to rush back into my fingers causing violent pins and needles.
He must sense that I'm thinking of doing something as he drops the poker into the fire and advances towards me drawing his blade.
"If you try anything I will drive my sword through your dirty English gullet" the man says to me and aims it at my throat again.
I wait patiently for my moment.
The rope falls from me and the man in charge orders me to stand to aid the scared boy behind me in removing my chainmail.
This is the moment, I can feel it.
I use the momentum of leaning forward to stand up as a way of grabbing for my dagger inside my left boot but my scabbard is empty and the breath seizes in my lungs as I realise they must have searched me when I was unconscious.
Panic sets in for a moment before I struggle to regain my composure.
"Looking for this?" the bastard asks me and I see that he's holding my dagger in his free hand, dangling it in front of me like a treat for an animal.
A surge of anger rushes through me as I see him examine the blade and pocket it into the back of his belt.
My father gifted that dagger to me when I still just a boy, its value to me is without equal, and to see his grubby hands on it is like a knife to my chest. My teeth grit and I clench my fists, wanting desperately to end this fuckwit.
I play along and remove my chainmail with the aid of the scared sentry before sitting back down on the seat and having my hands retied.
He ties the binds tighter this time in reaction to my escape attempt and I inwardly berate myself for my stupidity. Why didn't I think of that, of course they would search me. It's the first thing I would do to a prisoner.
The bastard chuckles to himself as he retreats to the fire before bringing the poker back and moving closer to me.
"Now where were we?" he goads me but I sit perfectly still, unafraid of anything that he can do to me. "Ah that's right; I was asking you who sent you"
"And I have already answered your question." I reply calmly.
"No you lied. And lies just won't do" he jeers at me before swiftly bringing the burning hot poker into contact with my chest.
It takes a while for my body to catch up with what my eyes are seeing and the shock to register.
White hot pain courses through my body and temporarily blinds me to my surroundings. I arch my back in reaction and strain against my restraints but there is no escape.
All I can sense and feel is this unimaginable pain as he sears my skin; I'm drowning in a sea of white that's rising and rising more until it threatens to overwhelm me.
Then just as suddenly he removes the poker and I come crashing back into the room, dripping in sweat and with a hoarse throat. My breathing's gone ragged and my heart is racing as I try to calm myself and ignore the burning sensation that isn't fading.
The fucking bastard smirks at me and my anger swells back to the forefront of my mind.
"Well I have to say you didn't really take that like a man...your screams could be heard for miles around" he goads me whilst leaning down close to my face.
I raise my chin and spit in his face. He won't best me.
He rears back in shock and anger crashes over his face in a split second; he throws the poker towards the fire and reaches for his sword, tearing it from its holder in apparent rage.
He presses it into my chest over the burn he's just lovingly created before twisting it into my charred flesh.
I grit my teeth in an attempt to stop the roar in my throat being released. I won't give him this satisfaction.
I feel the telltale flow of blood begin to drip down my stomach as I stare him down, he knows that this is unimaginably painful but he also knows that I won't give him what he wants. I will not yield.
"Stop!" shouts a man from somewhere nearby and the sword is withdrawn from my aching body. I slump down in relief.
The guard at the barn door has been silent throughout the entire proceedings up until this point. He steps forwards without any hesitation and his gaze falls onto the idiot in front of me. He's older, more mature and battle hardened – I can tell from his demeanor.
"You know very well that Colwyn will want to judge these Englishmen. Until he's back we cannot carry out punishment."
He casts his dark eyes back and forth between me and this man questioning him. He's having an internal battle with himself over whether to show any weakness; but I already know how he'll act – he's shown his lack of confidence already this night and it's only a matter of time until he surrenders control.
I can see his face getting redder as he realises that he's lost. His face is scrunched up in disgust at his position of having to answer to anyone but himself and he eyes me over his sword as he decides his next move. He doesn't like authority that's for sure.
He rears back and I see his fist coming just before it smashes into the side of my face. My head falls to the side with the impact and my cheek and eye throb with a dull ache.
The dizziness takes over for a few seconds before I can right myself and I watch as the idiot stalks from the barn and the other guard brings a pail of water over to the fire extinguishing it.
He leaves and the doors are slammed closed behind him with the sound of a lock being applied, leaving us in absolute darkness.
Silence follows for a few seconds as we all wait to check that we're alone.
"Max! Talk to me...what's our plan of action" I hear Alex whisper from somewhere nearby.
"Give me a moment to think" I whisper back. I glance around the barn looking for the inspiration for an escape plan as I try to dislocate my wrists to loosen my binds, but its pitch black in here.
"Are you both restrained?" I ask already knowing the answer but hoping against hope.
"Yes" I hear them both say back.
"Can either of you break free?"
"Don't you think we've been trying that for the past hour?" Alex muses.
I sigh. There's no obvious way out of this.
We're all restrained with no real hope of getting out of our bonds, we have no weapons and we're probably being guarded from outside the one and only exit route.
--------------------
"Bring the prisoners!" come the shouts at first light. We managed to get some sleep last night after I decided our best chance of survival was for Henry to make a run for it when were moved from the barn to be judged by this Colwyn character.
He'd volunteered and I didn't have the heart to tell him that it probably wouldn't work; we're too outnumbered and surrounded. We have no weapons and no horses.
"Henry, they're coming for us. Wait until we're moved from the barn and then make a run for the trees. If you make it to the trees you have a chance of hiding until they pass you. Once they've gone run for the camp and don't stop until you get there."
"Yes my lord, I will try my best"
I nod at him, this is it. It's now or never.
Now that morning has broken, light has been pouring into the cracks in the barn and I can see our surroundings very clearly both inside and out.
This is not a military stronghold as the King may have suspected. I've only seen farmers and field workers walk past the barn on the way to their days work out amongst the crops. I think the small gathering of what seem like soldiers are merely glorified village leaders.
They have no uniform; they certainly don't do any early morning training to keep up fitness and skills. In fact the only training I've seen is the drunken louts walking home from the local tavern after a heavy night of drinking and debauchery.
I'm beginning to think that we have just been very unlucky and got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But I have no time to dwell on these thoughts as the large barn doors are thrown open and daylight comes flooding in, blinding us temporarily after a night of thick and desolate darkness.
By the time my eyes adjust to the intrusion my binds have been untied and I'm being led from the barn at a brisk pace towards the side of the village that we didn't make it to last night.
It's the village square for all intents and purposes and there's a wooden platform ahead that a large crowd is gathered around. I wonder what I'm being led into.
The buzz of the crowd begins to get louder as we get closer and I hear a commotion behind me as I realise that Henry must have made a run for it as I'd instructed. I can only hope he gets away.
We reach the platform and the crowd begins to throw insults and rotten food in my direction. It's not until I reach the centre of the podium that I see Henry being bundled up the steps fighting against his captors...All hope is lost.
All three of us stand before the crowd with swords to our backs and no way out. They begin to bay for our blood as the bastard guard from yesterday sashays towards us and starts working the crowd into a bloodthirsty frenzy.
"Don't you think these English bastards should answer for their crimes?!"
"Who do they think they are? Crossing our borders, coming into our village and attacking us?!"
He shouts various accusations at us and the crowd goes wild calling for our executions. I begin to step forward to try and speak to the crowd but he notices and punches me in the gut, I fall to my knees and double over trying to get my stolen breath back.
I hear Alex trying to reason with everyone but his words fall on deaf ears as a wooden block is brought onto the podium and a hooded executioner steps up with an already bloodied battle axe in his bare hands.
"This one tried to escape! He should be punished for his cowardice first!" shouts the guard and hauls Henry up to the front of the platform and forces him to his knees beside me.
His head is pushed down onto the wood and I begin trying to stand, I can't allow anything to happen to one of my men if I have the power to stop it. I need to volunteer for this punishment. This is my fault. Not Henry's.
I rise to a crouch and begin to stand but another punch to the gut silences me as I fall to the floor in silent agony. These people won't rest now until they've had blood sprayed onto their filthy boots.
I turn to see the executioner preparing the blade on Henry's neck before he pulls it back and lets it fly downwards in a powerful arc.
"Nooo!" I roar but I'm too late.
My stomach drops and my hearts stops beating in my chest in shock as I see Henry's head fall to the ground in front of me. His face rolls upwards showing a frozen look of pure terror and I turn away hastily in disgust, the bile rising. The image of that poor boy's last moments of life ingrained in my head and my broken conscience.
Before I have time to even think about the situation I've found myself in I'm being hauled to my feet and dragged towards the block roughly.
The unseen hands force my head onto the wood and I grit my teeth in preparation of meeting my maker.
I vaguely hear more commotion from behind me and Alex shouting at how this is all some big mistake, how they need to hear us out.
Everything after that becomes a blur, time seems to slow and I hear my deep breathing in my ears.
It's like the battle field when you're facing death – your body knows what's coming and tries to save your mind from the terror by numbing your senses.
I can feel my chin resting on the wooden block, my knees ache underneath me from a night spent in the cold. I feel the cold steel of the battle axe blade as the executioner readies his aim at my neck.
I close my eyes as the crowd screams in encouragement of my death and take a deep breath in, readying myself for the end.
I don't hold my breath, instead I use my last moment of free will to speak the name of the person I would do anything to see once more.
"Cassie..." I whisper.